


Abuelita’s Enigmatic Elixir

by LikeMeReckless



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Potions and spells, bughead - Freeform, varchie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-11 20:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19548991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeMeReckless/pseuds/LikeMeReckless
Summary: When Veronica can’t stand another second of the unresolved tension between her best friends, Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones, she enlists the help of her Abuelita to cook up a plan.*Many thanks to @jandjsalmon for her opinions and edits. Her advice is invaluable!*My spell translations here were done via the internet, so if any native speakers see error, please feel free to message me on Tumblr and I’d be happy to make corrections.  @likemereckless





	Abuelita’s Enigmatic Elixir

Delicious food simmered on the stove as clouds of steam rose up from the pots. The aromatic scent of spices wafted up with the steam and blanketed the house in warmth and scents so delicious it made mouths water. Veronica leaned against the counter, watching her Abuelita work with the dough, occasionally wiping her hands on her apron before soothing a thumb over her granddaughter's cheek.

For the past two hours, Veronica had been pleading her case to her Abuelita, begging for her help to put her out of her misery; and by misery, she meant the tension between one Elizabeth Cooper and one Forsythe Pendleton Jones.

Her Abuelita was descended from a long line of Machi’s; healers and medicine women in the Mapuche culture. The Machi could communicate with the spirit world and were considered oracles and healers and boy, did her friends need some healing.

“Abuelita,” she sighed. “I cannot take another second around them! The tension is thicker than the steam in this kitchen and it’s killing me and Archie!”

Veronica’s grandmother smiled at her, moving to the stovetop to stir the pot that was simmering there. She added another sprig of cilantro to the dish before turning back to her granddaughter, satisfied. 

“Baby girl, you have to let them figure this out on their own. We can’t intervene every single time we think we know what is best for someone else, even if it comes from a place of love.”

Groaning loudly, Veronica flopped her head down on the table over her arms, folding at the waist, hair splayed about her shoulders.

“Mark my words, Abuelita. Tonight at dinner their oblivious pining will drive you into such a state of insanity that you’ll use that magic of yours to help me put them out of their misery.”

>>>>>

Saturday night, at 6:00 on the dot, Veronica let her friends into her penthouse abode. While her grandmother was staying with her family, she was reaping the many benefits of having an elder around- mainly all the delicious cooking that came with it. She had been raving about her chorillana at lunch the other day and Jughead was basically salivating at her words.

“Jug, you’re quite literally drooling,” giggled Betty while using her napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth.

“I mean, she’s talking about delicious meats, Betty. Delicious meats seasoned and cooked by an actual, authentic grandmother. I’ve only heard tales of these mystical women who live to provide delicious homemade goodness for their families,” Jughead explained.

Betty playfully rolled her eyes at him and nudged his arm with her shoulder as Veronica egged him on.

“Seriously though, Betty,” said Veronica. “Last night she made a flank steak that I swear could melt in your mouth.”

Jughead groaned from the other side of the table as Archie approached with his tray and flopped down by his girlfriend. 

“Actual flank steak?” He lamented. “I’ve heard tell tale of such delicious meat. Sadly, it would be wasted on the George Foreman grill on which the Jones men cook.”

Turning to her left, Betty joked, “Wait. You want us to believe the Jones men actually cook? Because I know Phil down at China Kitchen knows your number by heart.”

Lifting a hand to his chest in mock offense, Jughead snagged a few fries from Betty’s lunch. 

“Just because I choose to support my guy Phil and want to keep him employed does not mean I can’t cook.”

“Oh please, Juggie,” Betty laughed. “I don’t think you know the difference between the pilot and the exhaust when it comes to the kitchen.”

“Well, maybe you should come over and cook. You know, show me the womanly ways of food preparation,” he teased.

“Womanly ways?” said Betty angrily. “Jughead Jones it is 2019 and I-“

“You guys should come for dinner tomorrow!” Veronica interrupted, tiring of their endless banter. “My Abuelita would love to meet you!”

Betty and Jughead paused mid- argument to look at their friend, both seeming to be upset that their disagreement was cut short.

“Yeah!” Archie yelled. “You guys have to try her flan, too. It’s literally the best thing I have ever eaten in my life.”

Looking between one another and silently ending their debate, Betty and Jughead nodded to each other.

“Betty and I are in. How could we say no to the meat… and of course, we want to meet your grandma and all… but also, meat,” Jug explained.

Smiling at her friends Veronica replied, “Excellent!”

Truth be told, Veronica didn’t care about feeding either of them. She was hoping to help them satiate another mutual craving instead. She stood briskly from the cafeteria table, smoothing her dress and grabbing her bag.

“See you two tomorrow. Dinner is at 6:30. Bring your appetite.”

Now they all stood in the foyer, exchanging hellos and inhaling the amazing aroma of Abuelita’s cooking.

“Sweet mother of tenderloin, Veronica. Something smells like my version of heaven,” Jug moaned out loud, stepping further into her home to follow the food scents.

Veronica ushered them in, shaking her head at her friends.

“If you think the smell is amazing, wait until you taste it.”

As they took their seats around her sofa, Abuelita came from the kitchen to say hello. She watched Veronica’s friends carefully, nodding at their small talk and smiling when they complimented the smell of her cooking. She could feel the love wafting off them as the warm steamy spices had wafted up from her pans. She was so happy that Veronica had friends, real ones, not like the people she associated with in New York.

She could see their aura’s shining brightly around them. Archie, Veronica’s boyfriend, had a fitting aura of a brilliant red. Many associated red with anger, but his red signified passion, a competitive nature and maybe, just maybe, a little bit too much sexuality. Archie’s aura was pure and uncomplicated- a fine match for her granddaughter if she did say so herself.

Her best friend, Betty, had a beautiful, bright orange-yellow glow to her with tinges of deep blue which let Abuelita know she was a perfectionist, liked control in her life, and enjoyed small details. She could also see insecurity through her mask of perfection and that she walked a fine line between what she thought was right and what she wanted. She was also very generous to others and enjoyed being mentally challenged which seemed very fitting once she turned her gaze towards their other friend, Jughead.

Abuelita could see him gazing at Betty. Every smile on her face sparked his aura undertones to show, but then they were quickly replaced with a murky one again. On the surface, Jughead’s aura was a dark, muddled brown. This didn’t mean he was a bad person, just that he was suppressing things and afraid to share himself with others. He had probably had a difficult life and a long list of disappointments if she could guess. But, underneath that, when his guard slipped for just a moment, a beautiful turquoise would shine through. This meant that Jughead was a healer, someone who could help others become in tune with their true, inner selves- he accepted people for who they were, raw and gritty and as damaged.

After a few more moments of chatter, Abuelita returned to the kitchen and sent her guests over to the table where they would be eating. The table wasn’t set with the usual elaborate place settings that the Lodge home offered, but rather with simple white plates and glasses and with colorful placemats. They hadn’t wanted tonight to seem formal or stuffy, but rather a homey family dinner. 

Abuelita placed down steaming plates and bowls of her delicious food as they approached the table. Jughead paused to pull out Betty’s chair for her causing a warm blush to spread across her cheeks. She ducked her head and commented on the food to disguise her obvious enjoyment of his actions, and he remained oblivious. 

When Abuelita took her seat they all dug in. Archie and Jughead had their plates piled high with tender meats, vibrant yellow rice, and delicious side dishes. Betty was a bit more delicate in her choices, sampling just a little of each. Veronica reveled in watching her friends savor the cooking, a sense of love and pride showing on her face.

As they ate, Abuelita watched her granddaughter’s friends, two in particular, with amusement. Veronica was right. They were adorable, yet painful to watch. Throughout the meal, Jughead would casually sneak items off his plate and onto Betty’s that he knew she had enjoyed, knowing she wouldn’t want to seem like a pig by taking more servings from the platters. He would then wink at her and refill his own plate with another hearty helping. She, in turn, would blush and bite her lip, squeezing his knee under the table in silent thanks.

When Betty tasted her first bite of the seasoned yuca, she moaned in delight. At her uncharacteristic outburst, Jughead dropped his fork and looked like he wanted to seize her from across the table and devour her rather than the rest of his plate.

The final factor, setting in play the events of the next two hours, came when she had set out a platter of various different desserts she had made. Betty had delicately chosen one while the boys decided to sample them all.

“Betty,” Veronica gushed. “You HAVE to try the tres leches cake. It’s seriously the best thing you will ever put in your mouth!”

Betty smiled and declined, claiming she was already stuffed though it looked amazing. Jughead eyed her from the side and put a bit of the cake on his fork. 

“Seriously, Betty. This is amazing. Try a taste of mine. It’s that good that even I, Jughead Jones, am willing to share my food because you need to have this flavor in your life.” 

He held his fork up to her lips and she leaned forward, letting him feed her the bite of cake, their eyes never leaving each other. She chewed slowly, smiling and nodding in agreement with what Veronica and Jughead had told her.

“That was delicious, Abuelita. The cake and- everything. Thank you so much for going to all this trouble for us.”

While Abuelita smiled and thanked Betty, her eyes were more settled on Jughead, who as they spoke, brought the fork he had just fed Betty with up to his lips to lick off the remains of the cake, or maybe to see if he could savor any of Betty in the process.

Turning to Veronica, Abuelita spoke to her granddaughter in Spanish. 

“You are right, Veronica. These two are sweeter than my cakes and it is painful to watch.”

Excusing herself from the table with the excuse of dishes, and refusing help from her guests, Abuelita headed to the kitchen with her granddaughter to cook up a plan.

“Okay,” she stared flatly.

“Okay, what?” Veronica questioned.

“Okay, you were right. I will help your friends. Those two are just sad- borderline pathetic maybe,” she said, shaking her head.

Veronica beamed up at her grandmother and pressed her hands together tightly, overjoyed to finally end the saga that was Betty and Jughead.

“Thank you! Thank you!” she yelled. “What do we do?”

Nodding at her enthusiasm, Abuelita just smiled. “You keep them busy and just go with the flow. I will do the rest.”

For the next hour, the four friends chatted around the fireplace. Veronica repeatedly shot down suggestions of movies or walking off the meal, buying time for their plan to begin. When she felt she could stall her friends no longer, her grandmother returned to the living room carrying a tray with two teacups on top and an odd looking candle. She placed the tray between them all on the oak table and began to speak.

“It warms my heart that my Veronica has such beautiful friends in her life. To celebrate this, I have made a special, traditional tea. Drinking this with friends, they say, will solidify your bond and give you a special connection. For you, I offer this tonight.

Betty, not wanting to offend, was smiling and nodding back at her. Archie looked a bit perplexed and Jughead, sniffing the offending tea, looked downright suspicious. 

“Now, Archibald, Veronica, you two stand face to face and hold your cup between you. Elizabeth and,” she paused realizing she did not know his real name. “Jughead, you stand face to face here.”

She came to stand between the two groups, lighting the candle on the tray before speaking, eyes boring a hole up into the ceiling.

“Espíritus, escucha mis palabras. Unir estas almas. Curar estas heridas. Lo que es suyo será suyo y lo que es suyo será suyo.”

She fanned the flame of the candle before repeating her words again.

“Espíritus, escucha mis palabras. Unir estas almas. Curar estas heridas. Lo que es suyo será suyo y lo que es suyo será suyo.”

One final time she looked down and fanned the flame before picking up the candle and holding it up high towards the heavens.

“Espíritus, escucha mis palabras. Unir estas almas. Curar estas heridas. Lo que es suyo será suyo y lo que es suyo será suyo.”

With her final words, an eerie warmth and heaviness fell over the room. Jughead felt prodding at the front of his head, almost as if an invisible hand was pulling a string from his forehead forward towards Betty. Shaking the feeling off, he looked around at his friends. Surely he must be crazy or just wrapped up in the feeling of Abuelita’s words.

Betty, too, had an odd sense about her but couldn’t place what it was. She chalked it up to all the spices she ate and returned the smile to her face, not wanting to be disrespectful.

“Now, children. You and your partner must both hold the cup. First, tip it to the girls’ mouths so they may sip the tea. After sipping you must repeat this phrase: El corazón quiere lo que quiere”

Betty quirked a brow now, feeling uneasy about drinking the mystery concoction in front of her, but her fears were soon assuaged when Veronica, guided by Archie took her first sip and respected the words, “El corazón quiere lo que quiere.”

Looking over the cup at Jughead, Betty nodded and he brought it to her lips. Tilting it slowly, her mouth filled with the deep, potent flavor. When Jughead’s hands retreated, she said, “El corazón quiere lo que quiere.”

Abuelita nodded and then provided the next set of directions. “Now then, gentlemen, you will do exactly as the ladies did.”

Without hesitation, Archie sipped his tea and repeated the words, a bit jumbled, but similar enough to sound competent.

Next, Betty brought the cup to Jughead’s lips and he sipped the tea. He thought he could still feel the light film of Betty’s lipgloss on the cup and lingered just a second longer than he would have before saying, “El corazón quiere lo que quiere.”

At his declaration, Abuelita blew out the candles and smiled at them, her gaze a bit too intent and smile too mischevious for Jughead’s liking. 

“Now you are connected and will remain so until you know each other’s truths, desires, and fully see.”

With those words, she gathered the teacups and excused herself. Shaken by the experience, Betty feigned exhaustion and Jughead offered to walk her home. Archie opted to stay a while longer hoping for either some alone time with Ronnie or more tres leches cake. 

Veronica shut the door carefully and stalked into the kitchen to find her grandmother.

“Abuelita! You were just supposed to help Betty and Jughead! Archie and I were fine!”

She chuckled at her granddaughter and playfully hit her with the dishrag she was holding.

“Oh child, relax. Yours was plain herbal tea. The other two,” she grinned widely, “Let's say they should be fairly well illuminated shortly.”

>>>>>

He had wanted to kiss her on the front steps. He always wanted to kiss her, but the urge had been even stronger tonight. As he walked home, kicking stray twigs and rocks in his path, he chastised himself for even envisioning it. In no galaxy in any universe did a girl like Betty Cooper want to kiss a boy like Jughead Jones.

Of course she liked him, that was Betty. She would never hold anyone’s socioeconomic status over their heads or judge them for it. But with an alcoholic father, an MIA mother, and barely $47.50 to his name, he had nothing to offer her. She valued their friendship, this he knew, but friendship was where she would draw the line. He wouldn’t risk losing her just to play out a childhood fantasy of the perfect class valedictorian falling for the sullen outsider. If friendship was all they’d ever have, he’d consider himself lucky just to know her.

The walk passed quickly while he pondered life and soon he arrived home. His father was out, probably at the Wyrm drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Jack Daniels. Grabbing a glass of water from the tap, he headed to his bedroom to try and get some sleep.

As he lay down, his phone vibrated and beeped, the telltale signs of a text message. Sliding it out of his denim pocket, he saw BETTY scrolled across the top of his screen. Smiling, he flicked the message open and read.

Betty: I am seriously so full from tonight.

Jughead: Not me, I could eat.

Betty: Seriously?! Jug, where do you put it all?

Jughead: Modern day mystery, Betts.

After this, he could see three little dots keep coming and going on his screen. It took her a while to formulate her thoughts. Was she nervous? He shook his head and brushed that possibility away as a new message finally arrived on his screen.

Betty: Thanks for sharing your cake, Juggie.

Jughead: Anything for you, Betty Cooper.

Plopping his phone down beside him, he lay back on the bed and imagined their evening ending differently. In his daydream, he had kissed her, lightly at first and then deeper, the way Betty Cooper deserved to be kissed- not as a premise for anything else, but simply to have her breath taken away. He’d pin her to the side of her house and ravish her mouth, her neck, her-

“Get a grip, Jug,” he told himself. “Don’t even go there because it’s never gonna happen.”

>>>>>

The walk home from Veronica’s had been laced with comfortable conversation. Betty had linked her arm through Jughead’s as they strolled their way back to Elm Street. She had teased him about the mountain of food he had eaten and he had teased her about nibbling her meal like a vole. To any passersby, this would have seemed like the end of a date; a date that went very well.

But, the night didn’t end with a goodnight kiss. There was not a peck on the cheek or an awkward hug. On Betty’s porch, Jughead disentwined his arm and Betty clasped her hands in front of her.

“Night, Betty,” he muttered.

“Goodnight, Jug,” she returned.

An hour later, showered, pajamas on and ready for bed, Betty sat at her vanity brushing her hair with the ferocity at which Jug usually ate. She replayed their goodnight over and over and laughed at how lame her texts had even been, imagining she was brazen enough to reach up on tiptoe to kiss him and sighed to herself at her ridiculous puppy love.

“Get a grip, Betty.” she sighed, looking in the mirror.

As she moved to get up and climb in bed, a rush came over her and she quickly perched on the bed’s edge. Where the alarmingly vivid vision came from she had no idea, but it was like being in a lucid dream. She could feel it happening and it rocked her to her core.

“Night, Betty.” She heard Jughead say.

“Goodnight, Jug,” she heard herself reply.

But that was all that was similar to earlier because the next thing she knew his lips were on hers, soft a first, asking permission, but then more sure and forceful when she complied. She felt her arms come up to wrap around his neck and tangle in the dark hair there, while his slipped to her lower back to pull her closer. Suddenly, he had backed her into the siding of her house, pressing firmly against her devouring her mouth, her neck, her collarbone, all with fevered kisses like a starved man.

Betty snapped out of the vision abruptly, left panting and flushed, and a little bit flabbergasted. Her lips still tingled from where the kisses had been and she felt the moisture from lips at her pulse point.

“What the HELL was that?” She said to herself, feeling her heart rate started to decline. Never in her life had she had a dream so vivid and real. She lay back in her bed and groaned into her pillow. It was going to be a long night.

>>>>>

Sun streamed through the shades and warmed the plum bedspread under which Veronica Lodge slept. Her slumber was deep and solid. Apparently scheming really wore you down. 

In her slumbered state, Veronica felt the mattress dip and she sat up to see who the individual with the death wish was.

“Abuelita,” she groaned, tossing her sleep mask to her side. “You better have good news or it better be at least ten o’clock.”

Laughing at her grouchy granddaughter, she handed her a fresh cup of French pressed coffee she had percolated for her.

“It’s noon, Little One, and you have work to do. If you want this plan of ours to work, you need to foster it a little bit.”

Veronica pouted while she sipped her coffee, the world becoming a bit less groggy and blurred.

“Great. They drive me crazy with their tension and wake me up on weekends. These two are exasperating!”

“I suggest,” began her grandmother, “Calling your friends and having some lunch at that Pop’s you like so much. Milkshakes are a must, Little One.”

With a wink, Abuelita left Veronica in bed to sip her coffee. With renewed energy and a sense of purpose, Veronica texted her friends to meet her in an hour. As she hit send, she smiled to herself.

“Milkshakes it is.”

>>>>>

Archie and V had slid into the vinyl seats at Pop’s right next to each other. Par for the course, not an inch of space between the pair. Betty found herself sighing, envious of her two best friends until the bell jingled on Pop’s door and Jug slid next to her, not quite as close.

“Sorry, I’m late. The bike didn’t sound right. I think something may be loose,” Jughead explained.

Placing a hand on his shoulder Betty turned towards him. 

“No worries, Jug. I ordered your usual,” Betty smiled.

“Thanks, Betts. What would I do without you?” Jughead said, his voice blanketed in warmth and reverence.

“Probably starve,” she shrugged. “I can come look at your bike later if you want, too.”

She placed a palm on his forearm and without thought or realization gave it a soft squeeze.

Before he could respond, burgers, shakes, fries and grilled cheese sandwiches were slid onto the table, breaking the momentary connection. Jughead never in his life thought he could dislike the interruption of a burger, but this one was pretty close to marking that new milestone.

As they ate Archie filled them in on his newest song. 

“It’s totally different from anything I’ve ever written,” he spoke excitedly. “I mean, it’s fresh and new and I can’t wait until it’s ready to be played.”

“So, it’s not a love ballad?” Jughead sniggered.

Archie’s expression was crestfallen. “I mean, it’s a song about love, but not a love song. I mean it has a different sound. It-“

Seeing Betty’s smile as she bit her milkshake straw and Jughead’s grin on his face, Archie couldn’t help but smile back as well. 

“Can’t wait, Arch,” Jug muttered, sipping his chocolate shake.

Grabbing a stray fry from his plate, Archie chucked it across the table at his friend, shaking his head while doing so, face full of mirth. 

“Shut up, Jug,” he added for good measure as the flying fry landed in his milkshake, effectively splashing the thick chocolate treat onto Jughead’s face as he was poised to sip.

As he reached for a napkin, the four friends roared with laughter.

>>>>>

Betty laughed along with her friends, but laughter was the last thing on her mind. As those chuckleheads twittered, she couldn’t help but notice Jughead’s tongue peeking out from between his lips to clear off errant bits of chocolate shake, tossed there by Archie’s French fry invasion.

She imagined that her friends were gone and she would lean forward, first kissing the corner of his mouth and sucking away a bit of chocolate, then slowly taking his upper lip between hers, clearing away more of the delicious dessert. When that was clean, she’d slide downward, sucking his lower lip between her own, ruminating over it until it was also clean. With one last long lick of her tongue, she’d clear the offending chocolate off his cheek before sinking back into her side of the booth.

“Betty! Jughead!” She snapped out of her trance at Veronica’s shout. “Where the hell did you two go?”

“Sorry,” Betty blushed, quickly taking a sip of her milkshake.

>>>>

Jughead tossed a mock middle finger up at Archie as he swiped his tongue over his mouth, wiping off the stray shake. Suddenly, his body was hit with a wave of sensations and an evocative vision. 

Slowly and purposefully, Betty leaned forward and nipped the corner of his mouth, then moved up to suck on his upper lip. The sensations were so real he could feel the warmth of his mouth, her breath hot against his lips, even though she hadn’t left her seat. 

Jughead’s jaw went slack as he saw Betty take his lower lip between her own and finish her task with a long, slow lick up the side of his cheek.

Sweating and audibly groaning, Jughead came back to reality with a call from Veronica. 

“Jug,” said Archie. “I know you LOVE milkshakes, bro. But, that? Seriously dude, tone it down.”

Jughead nodded at his friend, heart still pounding from his encounter. Sneaking a glance over at Betty, her face looked similarly flushed and flustered.

Shaking it off, he went back to his fries, trying to chase away the feeling of Betty’s lips on his own.

>>>>>

Betty grabbed a wrench off of the picnic table from her tool kit and wiped her greasy hands on her blue overalls. Her trademark ponytail was falling loose down her neck and sweat shone on the white camisole from under her overalls. The sun beat down on them and she cursed the weather gods for not providing any clouds from under which to work while she fixed his bike. She also cursed herself for not bringing him to her garage.

Jughead re-emerged from his trailer carrying a glass of water, ice cubes clinking against the side of the clear glass as he walked.

“Here, drink this. You look super dehydrated, Betts.” 

He offered her the cool liquid and she silently thanked him by greedily chugging the ice cold water. After downing half the drink she pressed the frigid glass to her forehead, enjoying the burning sensation it left on her skin.

“Thank you,” she finally sighed, enjoying the relief from the hot sun.

“We should have done this at your house,” he chortled. “At least you have a garage.”

Taking an ice cube from the glass, Betty rubbed the cold brick against her neck, tilting her head back to rub the ice cube down to her collarbone.

“Now where would be the fun in that?” Betty joked.

When she looked up, she couldn’t help but drink him in; sweaty and tanned, arms bared in a simple white tank. 

Suddenly, the cool of the ice cube was replaced by an intense, fiery warmth.

She saw herself, head tipped back and seated on the motorcycle and Jughead dragging the ice down her neck, his tongue following the path of the ice all the way down to where the condensation dripped into her shirt. 

Unable to control the sensations, her mouth fell open and a high pitched squeak emerged from her lips, drawing Jughead out of his daze.

As fast as it came upon her, the vision and the sensations were gone. She looked up at Jughead, flushed and flustered, to see him standing there with an indeterminable look upon his face. Was it curiosity or maybe guilt?

She decided the best thing she could do was get back to work.

>>>>>

His bike needed a bit more work than he originally thought. He assumed it had something to do with an oil change or some other simple issue, but it all seemed very complicated to him. Betty assured him repeatedly it was an easy fix and no big deal, but an hour later she was still working in the blazing sun. 

After watching her wipe the accumulating sweat from her forehead, he had gone inside and retrieved a glass of ice water to help cool her down. He hadn’t realized that her cooling down would result in his heating up.

First, she had tipped that long perfect neck of hers back to take a long drink. He could see sweat droplets fall from the top down into her camisole. 

“Lucky sweat,” he whispered to himself.

But the world was cruel and did not stop there. Betty took an ice cube from the glass and actually ran it across her skin, down to where that sweat droplet had disappeared before.

It was all too much. Jughead pictured himself taking the cube and tracing a similar path down her body, his lips chasing the cool liquid. He would taste the salty sweat that had gathered on his skin and made his way down to the front flap of her overalls where that offending camisole teased him with cleavage. 

A high pitched squeal from Betty drew him from his daydream. When his eyes met hers he found her red and breathless, her eyes searching his. 

“You okay, Betty?” Jug questioned, unsure of what exactly had happened.

She pacified him with a small, “Mhmm,” and got back to work.

>>>>>

An hour later Betty was finishing up the last steps to get Jug’s bike back in commission again. She leaned forward, bending over his bike to reach for her toolbox on the bench. Digging through her bag, she couldn’t seem to find the last piece she needed. 

As her frustration mounted, she felt a solid presence pressed up behind her and leaning over her back. His height made it possible for him to bend forward with his white tank top barely grazing her back, to place the wrench she wanted in her hand.

He paused a while in that position, just a fraction of a moment too long, which let Betty’s mind wander. 

She imagined his hands roughly gripping her hips to pull her firmly back against him. Those same hands, previously rough, now slowly gliding up her sides to release the buckles on her overalls, the front falling as his lips found her neck and his palms cupped-

Betty’s thoughts were interrupted by a deep growl from Jughead’s lips as his hands did find her waist, but only to pull her up and turn her to face him. Their eyes were drawn to each other like opposing poles on a magnet and they knew exactly what the other was thinking.

Without any further thought, Betty pressed forward into him and placed her forehead against his own, his fingers digging into the skin at her hips.

>>>>>

He had watched Betty check every square inch of his bike over the last hour, commenting on some parts he should replace and cleaning up others. He could tell from the way her usually straight shoulders slumped that she was exhausted, probably from the heat.

As she rooted around in her tool kit, unable to find what she needed, he noticed a stray wrench laying in the grass. On impulse, he picked it up and instead of calling to her, he pressed himself so close to her body, feeling the heat rising off of it. 

His vivid flashes over the past 24 hours had been weighing on him and he noticed that she too had been acting off. Testing his theory, he bent forward, hovering his body over hers, to press the wrench in her hand. 

I should move, he told himself. But his body and his brain had different goals. Just as his brain was winning out, another wave of warmth and fog swept over him and all comprehensive thoughts fell apart.

He gripped Betty’s hips and pull them back into his own, her deep moan echoing through the afternoon gaze. His fingers gripped her tiny hip bones forcefully and then eased their grip by siding up her denim-clad body to where here overalls lay clipped. 

He could see Betty bite her lip and arch her hips back further and his teeth grazed her neck and his fingers deftly unhooked her overalls. As they fell forward, and he licked off another drip of sweat, he felt his own hands rise up to peel down her white camisole.

As quick as it had begun, the warmth and fog retreated and again it was just he and Betty, both flushed and breathless, balancing over his bike. 

The intimacy of the position coupled with the moans they had both let out should have made the situation awkward, but the connection had been so intense that they were both too spent to feel much else. Gripping her hips, he turned her to face him, holding onto her so tight as if she were the only thing holding her up as she pressed her forehead against his.

“Have you- have you been seeing things, too?” Jughead questioned, his grip loosening and moving up to her lower back.

>>>>>

Betty pulled her forehead from his and returned his piercing gaze with one of her own. The answer to his question was her lips seeking his, a soft, tentative kiss to test the waters. As she began to pull back slightly, he slanted his mouth over hers gently, reforming the connections between them. His hands left her hips and grabbed the front of her overalls, pulling her forward into him. His lips swallowed her gasp of surprise at how forward he was being and he took that opportunity to sweep his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her and savoring every slide of lip and swipe of tongue. 

Betty was having an out of body experience. His lips and his hands were all too much for her so suddenly and she could not stop the moan that slipped from her lips, the vibrations against his lips causing him to harden against her and the knowledge that she could do that causing her to flood with warmth.

Abruptly, Jughead pulled back from her taking a few steps back, palms open and out in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he huffed, still catching his breath. “I didn’t mean-

Betty reaches forward for him and flinched when he recoiled from her. 

“Jug, you didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted that to happen,” she confessed. “I have for a very long time.”

Though he heard her words, he refused to believe them.

“God, Betty, you have no idea how much I want that to be true, but something is going on here. I’ve been having these visions of us that are so real…”

“You kissing me on my front porch? Or dragging an ice cube up my neck,” she quizzed.

Staring at her eyes wide he began to understand what was happening, but not how.

“You- you saw or felt those things?” He asked.

She nodded back and tipped her head to the side. “You didn’t?”

Casting his eyes down in a moment of embarrassment he felt as if he had to confess. 

“Betts, no, I was thinking those things. I was, um, fantasizing about them. What I saw was different. It was…”

Realization flashed between them both and his eyes shot up from where they studied the grass.

“Betty, the chocolate shake and the motorcycle… Were you? Did you fantasize about doing those things? Was that you?”

Cursing her heritage for fair skin, she couldn’t hide her blush or the truth so again she just nodded, biting her lip to hide her embarrassment. Neither moved for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

“Jug, how can we both feel these things so distinctly. And why only thoughts of each other and not everything?” Betty asked, breaking the silence.

Jughead walked over to sit down at the picnic table and Betty took a seat beside him.

“I’m not sure. When did this start for you?” He asked, finally looking up at her again.

Smiling shyly she tucked a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail back in. “Last night after you walked me home. I was in my room and I had that flash of you kissing me and it was so real- I could feel it.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jughead shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you like that or anything I just-“

Placing a hand on his cheek, she turned his face to look at her. 

“Hey, Juggie. It’s okay,” Betty assured him gently. Then to break the tension she added, “ I mean, I kinda fantasized about licking your face at lunch so maybe let’s just call it even this time.”

Neither could stop the grin from spreading across their face and when her thumb grazed his lips, they both leaned in to kiss again.

This kiss was nothing like before. This one was slow and deep and wet, not born of desire or need, but out of love and longing. 

Jughead’s fingertips held her chin lightly and he rubbed his nose softly against hers, urging her lips to open. Betty angled herself closer to him, dropping a shoulder to fit her body better into his own. They exchanged small, slow kisses, their lips never completely disconnecting, but pulling back slightly as they tested these new waters.

Her fingers, which had been idle, now moved up to his chest, sliding slowly upward before coming to their final resting place at the base of his neck, pulling him more firmly to her.

The tiny hairs on which she pulled seemed to be the last threads holding Jughead together. At her grasp he pulled her by her hips onto his lap on the bench, her hips straddling him, one leg on each side and proceeded to coax her mouth open with his own.

The heat of the sun could not compare at all to the searing heat of their tongues dueling, tangling together. The whole world became suddenly out of focus and nonexistent. She rolled her tongue around his and he pulled the scrunchie from her hair, loosening her ponytail and using the golden strands to hold her firmly to him. 

As their teeth clashed together she pulled more firmly against him, causing their hips to rock against each other and they both broke apart, breathless and aroused.

Panting through his words, Jughead shook his head. “Betty, please don’t kill me or take this the wrong way, but I-“

“You don’t want to continue until we figure out these visions because you want to make sure this is really what I want and not some elaborate spell that I’ll regret,” she finished, raising her eyebrows.

Looking at her dumbfounded he replied, “Well, uh yeah. That pretty much sums it up.”

Still locked around his waist, she scooted back so she was firmly planted on the bench again and took both of his hands in her own.

“I want to try something, okay? Just- go with it?” 

Betty closed her eyes with a small smile splayed across her face and focused on her thoughts. With their hands connected this time, and the newfound awareness, they both felt the familiar warmth and fog envelop them. Only this time, what they saw wasn’t current.

They were both younger, the summer before freshman year if he wasn’t mistaken, and they were down at their favorite swimming spot by Sweetwater River. 

“Jump, Betty!” Veronica and Archie yelled.

“No way you guys,” Betty shrieked, backing away from the edge.

“C’mon! It’s totally safe!” Archie’s voice called over the rushing water.

Fear filled Betty’s body and she began to shake until suddenly she felt a hand grab her own. Eyes roaming from the fingers entwined in hers, up the tanned arm to his face, Betty’s body visibly relaxed and her fears dissipated.

“We can go together, Betts,” he had said.

And they did.

From there the visions changed again.

Betty stood at her locker watching as Archie asked Veronica to the Homecoming Dance. Her friend smiled wide and jumped up swinging her arms around his neck, yelling out an excited yes. 

Standing silently at his locker behind them, Betty met Jughead’s eyes. He smiled a small grin that did not reach his eyes and turned and walked away from the scene. Betty’s heart sank in disappointment. They both felt it now as real and as deep as the day it happened. 

A light tap on her shoulder broke her from her sorrow. It was Reggie, who stood there, cocky grin plastered across his face.

“Yo, Mini Cooper! You? Me? Homecoming?” Reggie declared.

“Sure, Reg,” Betty agreed reluctantly. This time it was her eyes that the smile did not reach.

The next flash came in fast waves, a series of moments all jumbled together.

His hand brushing hers at the Pop’s dinner table.

His arm folding over her shoulder during a film at the Twilight.

A birthday hug that lingered a bit longer than friends.

A homemade birthday gift that she loved above all others and touched every time she sat at her vanity.

Jughead pulled back from her hands, breaking the connection between them, both of their eyes were still locked but now glittering with fresh emotion.

“I didn’t know,” he stammered. “I never thought that you could- well, that a girl like you would want a guy like me.”

“Juggie, I felt the same. Like maybe I was too, vanilla for you.”

Jughead stared at her incredulously.

“Betty Cooper. You are many things, but vanilla is not one of them. Maybe it’s my turn to come clean,” he added, grabbing her hands in his own again.

With the connection between them resumed, the familiar, and now welcomed, warmth came flooding back between them.

Jughead watched from the corner of the bleachers as Betty slow danced with Reggie at homecoming, pants of jealousy filling his chest along with regret for not being confident enough to ask her himself. It looked like he was gearing up to kiss her. He couldn’t watch. He never saw her turn away and tell Reggie she liked him, but only as a friend.

The next flash was from sophomore year.

He had been staying at the Twilight because his Dad’s drinking was at its peak. He had come home a month prior, angry and inebriated, and fallen up the trailer steps. Jughead has tried to help him and in his embarrassment lashed out, swinging at him and berating him. He’d been so hungry lately, devouring the school’s free and reduced lunch program. 

That Thursday, his face sallow and pale, stomach rumbling, Betty had approached him at his locker armed with a basket of chocolate chip muffins.

“Hey, Juggie. I baked a little too much last night. You know Alice Cooper would never approve of me gorging on that many carbs. I figured that I could count on you to devour the excess.”

He knew none of that was true, but accepted her gesture as to not make him feel bad and thanked her by placing a brief, and uncharacteristic, kiss on her cheek.

Warmth spread through him at the contact and something else that Betty could not yet place her finger on.

Similar to what she had done, he now let his thoughts flow fluidly.

Betty getting the top score in the class on their essay contest- his chest swelling with pride.

Betty in a crop top with a much shorter skirt than normal, belly button making an appearance.

He and Betty holding hands during the Shining at the Twilight when she was frightened at a scene.

Jughead watching Betty making goofy faces over a strawberry milkshake, laughing at her childish actions.

Betty hugging him when his Mom and JB left, arms so tight around him and wishing she’d never let go.

This time she broke the connection, tears shining in her eyes. He shrugged at her, feeling shy from the waves of emotion he had unleashed. 

“Juggie?” Betty asked. “Under all those stories I felt something, the same thing over and over again, but I don’t want to be presumptuous. Do you…?”

“Love you?” he replied. “Betty, how could I not? Of course I love you. I have for so long, before I even knew what that feeling was.”

She leaned forward and laid her head on his chest, ear pulsing with each heartbeat.

“I love you, too, Jug. And not just like a best friend. I love you as so much more.”

They stayed connected, embracing on the bench in comfortable silence, at peace with each other. It was he who spoke first.

“The tea,” he whispered into her ear. “I think that Veronica’s grandmother did something to us with that tea.”

“I don’t care what she did, Jug. As long as it got us both to pull out heads out of the sand.”

“Hey, Betts,” he murmured, pulling his face back from her. “I have an idea.”

>>>>>

“Miss Veronica?” Came from over the intercom.

“Yes, Smithers?” She replied.

“I have Mr. Jones and Ms. Cooper down here, very agitated. Should I show them out?” 

Veronica sighed to herself. Not even ancient magic was strong enough to get through to those two knuckleheads.

“No, Smithers. It’s fine. Just send them up.”

Veronica waited by the door, already holding it open, waiting to be berated by her friends. She took a deep breath and braced herself as the elevator door dinged open.

“Hey, guys! What are you-“ her words cut off.

“You poisoned us!” yelled Jughead. “You and your grandmother!”

“Poison!” exclaimed Veronica. “I have no idea what you are talking about!”

“Your little tea prank, V,” said Betty, walking through the apartment doorway. “We both spent the afternoon at the emergency room. The even debated pumping our stomachs to drain all the hallucinogens!”

Veronica Sinhalese sharply, face covered with fear and regret. Her mouth hung open in a giant “O” shape as her hand came up to cover it.

“Oh my God, Betty, Jughead, we never meant to- I just wanted to-“ Veronica stammered.

Just then Abuelita emerged from the kitchen, laughing at her granddaughter and eyeing her friends. Her mirth was so contagious that Betty herself could no longer stifle her smile and Jughead’s soon followed.

Veronica looked completely bewildered and gazed back and forth in between them all.

“I don’t understand. What is going on?” She demanded to know.

Betty looked up at Jughead and then laced their fingers together. Realization washed over Veronica’s face followed by a flash of anger.

“You mean I didn’t poison you?” she blurted out.

Betty shook her head and looked between her friend and her grandmother. 

“We just wanted to have a little fun with you, V. You didn’t poison us at all. On the contrary, this whole experience was very eye-opening,” explained Betty.

With a large sigh, Veronica shuddered and howled, “It’s about damn time! Your sexual tension was literally suffocating us all.”

“Us?” Jughead questioned surprised. “Who else has been talking about Betty and me?”

Veronica gave him a pointed look and started naming people, keeping count on her fingers to be facetious.

“Oh, you know, just Me, Archie, Trev, Dilton, Polly, Reggie, Kevin… to name a few.”

The new couple looked flabbergasted before an idea lit up in Jughead’s brain.

“Hey, Abuelita. We’ve got these friends Cheryl and Toni and…”

His words were drowned out by a groan from Abuelita.

“Oh Dios mio!” She cried with a shake of her head. “Teenagers.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This was a fun little one-shot to write! It was nice writing Veronica’s Grandmother since she doesn’t normally appear or play a huge role. I enjoyed thinking about what type of character I’d imagine her to be! 
> 
> When she’s speaking during the tea ceremony her words translate to:
> 
> I always love constructive criticism so fire away! Follow me on Tumblr if you’d like for more of my stories or to see other story suggestions from the many fabulous writers in this fandom! @Likemereckless 
> 
> I want to add another thanks to Jandy, @jandjsalmon for her editing. If any mistakes remain it is definitely because I missed her fabulous suggestion! I am currently still doing all my writing on my iPhone since my toddler broke my laptop and I used the money I saved for a new one to buy that same toddler a swingset for her birthday. Toddler life.


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